My dear friend Lisa called the other day to encourage me. In our conversation she mentioned that she visited my blog and noticed that I like John Piper. Well, there just happened to be a group of ladies in her church reading God Is the Gospel. “They meet on Tuesday evenings at so-and-so’s house, I am not able to be in the group, but you might like to go.”

It occurred to me that I don’t know any women in my circle of friends and acquaintances who read John Piper. I’m not exaggerating. Most of the women I know either do not read or they read Beth Moore–not that there’s anything wrong with that. But when Lisa mentioned a group of women reading one of his books and getting together to talk about it, my jaw dropped.

I did something tonight that earned me the tag of “Brave Woman.” I went to the house of someone I did not know, to talk to women I have never met. The only information I had was an address, a last name, the recommendation of a friend, the title of the book they were discussing. On the way over, it occurred to me that under any other circumstances, I would not do what I was doing. Let’s say I love Tupperware and I heard about a party from a friend. She knew all the details, she was not going to go, but I might like to go. Let’s say I knock on the hostess’ door. She opens it to find a complete stranger who wants to come into her house to buy some burping bowls and tumblers. Any woman with street smarts would shut the door in my face. Not so in the Body of Christ.

When I arrived at the hostess’ home, she welcomed me and introduced herself. She invited me in. All of the ladies present introduced themselves. When the discussion began, I was encouraged to share my thoughts. I was truly welcomed into their fellowship even though I am not a member of their church, nor have I ever visited it. We sat around and talked about the beauty of the gospel, the details of what Jesus accomplished for us, for about two hours.

One woman remarked that I must be a “brave woman.” Not really. Desperate, maybe. I guess it was a pretty gutsy thing to do. I really had no idea how it would turn out. But I had a hunch. If these ladies were born of the Spirit of God, then I knew we had the same Father and I could call them sisters. We are family through the blood of Jesus. If we have fellowship with Him, then we can have fellowship with one another. Because of Christ, there is an immediate connection and affection that is real and warm. This fellowship is a demonstration of the power of the cross; another outpouring of God’s grace on His children.